


Heavy Water

by djsadguy



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Crime Fighting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Original Character(s), POV Third Person, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djsadguy/pseuds/djsadguy
Summary: "Still here I carry my old delicious burdens...I carry them with me wherever I go; I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them; I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return." — Walt Whitman
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

“Meet in the conference room in five minutes,” Agent Hotchner said to the group of agents scattered around the bullpen.  
“Does he seem like he’s in a good mood or what?” Emily Prentiss asked, rolling her eyes. The rest of the agents grumbled in agreement. They all knew Hotchner was a hard-ass, but for the last week, he’d been nearly unbearable.  
“Last week he had a confrontation with Hailey about her keeping Jack from him.” Derek Morgan glanced over his shoulder, seeing Hotchner walking into the conference room and taking up a position at the head of the table. “I don’t think he’s recovered yet.”  
“Well, let’s get it over with, shall we?” Penelope Garcia smiled, motioning for the others to follow her towards the conference room. “C’mon, guys. How bad can it be, compared to what you all see on the daily?” Once again, the group of agents murmured various agreements and they all made their way into the conference room.  
“Sit down, please,” Hotchner surveyed the room, making sure all of his agents were accounted for. Prentiss, Reid, Morgan, Rossi, Jareau, Garcia. He nodded slightly to himself, then addressed the group. “The BAU will be bringing in a new agent, according to orders from the Bureau’s director.” The agents looked around the table, shooting each other questioning looks.  
“What do you mean bringing in?” Morgan asked.  
“She’s not with the Bureau yet. They’re hiring her specifically for our unit.”  
“Doesn’t that break protocol?” JJ asked, staring at Hotch completely bewildered. “I mean, I thought every BAU agent had to be promoted from within?”  
“The director seems to think this individual is well suited for our line of work, and will be highly beneficial for our unit,” Hotch said. “I’m not really in a position to argue with him. She will be coming in tomorrow morning for me to brief her on our general procedures, and she will assist on any cases that come up following that.” One by one, the agents processed this information, looking confused—aside from Reid, who was mostly unbothered.  
“Do you have any information about this new agent?” he asked.  
“Yeah, what do we know about her?” Morgan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Why does your boss think she’s ready to take on everything we do?”  
“According to her file,” Hotch said, opening a thin manilla folder, “she’s just graduated law school, and applied to the Bureau to be an agent.”  
“Why would a lawyer want to be a special agent?” Rossi asked. “It’s a completely different kind of work—she’s just spent over a hundred thousand dollars to go into a white-collar career, and now she’s going to drop that for something as physically and mentally taxing as this?”  
“Maybe she didn’t actually want to be a lawyer,” Reid speculated. “Some young people just get degrees in well paying fields to get parents off their backs, or to try to establish financial security to pay off student loans.”  
“Yeah, we know, Reid,” JJ interrupted. “We’ve all got student loans.”  
“What was her undergraduate degree in?” Rossi asked.  
“She has a dual degree—a B.S. in Chemistry and a B.A. in Psychology—from the University of Chicago,” Hotchner said. “She went to Yale for her J.D.”  
“How old is she?” Rossi asked.  
“And, more importantly, what’s her name?” Garcia asked.  
“Yeah, what’s our mystery girl’s name?” Prentiss seconded.  
“Caroline McIntyre,” Hotch said. “And she’s 23.”  
“Holy smokes,” JJ breathed.  
“That’s young to be done with law school,” Prentiss mused.  
“She’s way too young, Hotch,” Morgan said.  
“Not necessarily. I was 22 when I joined the BAU,” Reid countered.  
“Yeah, but you’re different,” Morgan said. “You’d accumulated five different degrees by then.”  
“Well, Caroline has three so far,” Reid countered again. The other agents suspected he was excited he would no longer be the youngest member of their team.  
“This is not up to any of you,” Hotch stated, giving hard looks to his agents. “You will get the chance to meet her tomorrow. We’ll have a team lunch where you can all get to know her. However, I won’t have you all interrogating her about her selection for this team. I expect you all to be respectful. Understood?” The agents agreed. “Meeting dismissed, then. As you were,” Hotch nodded to his team, and they all began to leave the room.  
“God, imagine starting this job at 23,” Prentiss muttered to Garcia and JJ when they got out of the conference room. “I mean, the things we see? It really wears you down. I doubt she’ll be prepared for this at all.”  
“Maybe you should have some faith in her,” Garcia said. “I mean, if the Director of the FBI chose her to work with us? She’s gotta have something really special.”  
“That’s true,” JJ agreed. “I mean, typical recruiters can pick out some perfectly good agents, but if the head of the whole Bureau selects someone for a specific unit? I bet she’s almost on Spence’s level.”  
“I guess we’ll see in the morning,” Prentiss shrugged.  
“At least we’re getting another lady on the team,” Garcia grinned, nudging both Prentiss and JJ. “Girl power, baby!” The three women all laughed, then parted ways to get back to work.  
Still in the conference room, Rossi approached Hotch.  
“Did Mueller tell you why he’s making this exception?” Rossi asked in a low voice. He knew Hotch couldn’t be happy about having his control of the unit stripped like this—especially as he had to tell his agents that he had no authority in the decision.  
“Not exactly,” Hotch replied. “You can read her file. It helped me make sense of Mueller’s choice.” He slid the folder to Rossi, eyeing the shorter man as he picked it up and scanned the first page.  
“Does she have any experience with field work? Is she going through the Academy?”  
“She’s been in training for a month and a half,” Hotch muttered. Rossi snapped his head up to look up at him.  
“How long have you known about this?”  
“Mueller told me in March.”  
“And you decided not to tell the team until the afternoon before she starts?” Rossi shook his head as Hotch stared him down. “Hotch, you know I respect you. I’ve never doubted your ability to lead this team. But you know they don’t always adapt well to new members. Wouldn’t it have been better to tell them further in advance? Give them time to adjust?”  
“Don’t question the way I’ve handled this, David. I did what I felt was best.”  
“Okay.” Rossi started skimming the file again. “Can I take this back to my desk?”  
“Bring it to me before you leave tonight,” Hotch said. Rossi nodded in agreement, and the two left the conference room.  
That evening, Hotchner stayed in the office later than usual, pulling together resources for the new profiler and ensuring his own information was in order. He read back over Caroline’s file, ensuring he was familiar with the basic information he needed to know. As he read, he thought back to the day he learned the team would be getting another member.

_“I’m assigning a new agent to the BAU,” Mueller told Hotch._  
_“From what unit?” Hotch asked._  
_“None,” Mueller said. When Hotch opened his mouth to rebut this, Mueller held up his hand. “Now, Aaron, I know how seriously you take your team and its dynamics. But I’m telling you, this girl has skill. I mean, I saw her acting as a prosecutor in a mock trial, and the way she examined the witness…She’ll be invaluable to your team. I’m sure of it. As an interrogator, as an investigator. She’s young, Hotch, but she’s hungry.”_  
_“Whatever you say, Robert.” Hotch stared out of his office window. “I know when to bow out. My hands are tied here—you’ve made that clear enough.”_

* * *

  
Caroline McIntyre woke up at 4:30 a.m. the day she was scheduled to start at the BAU. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so instead she brewed coffee and sat out on her apartment’s balcony to watch the sun come up. By 5:30, it was nearly completely light.  
“That’s the beauty of summer below the Mason Dixon line, I guess,” she mused, pouring a second cup of coffee. She set about pulling together some breakfast, staring at the contents of her fridge for a moment before deciding she couldn’t be bothered. She instead grabbed a pack of PopTarts, microwaving them before speeding through the rest of her morning routine—showering, blow drying her hair, and throwing on the suit she’d chosen to wear. It was what she liked to think of as her “power suit”—a black ensemble that she’d paid far too much to get tailored. The good news was it fit her like a glove, broadening her shoulders the way she liked. Standing in front of her mirror, she adjusted her blouse and played around with cuffing the sleeves of her blazer. Finally deciding against it, she put on her watch and favorite silver hoop earrings, then did her makeup, keeping it simple to look a bit more mature. All her life, Caroline had been told she had a true baby face—even at age 23, having recently earned her Juris Doctorate, she was still carded at bars.  
“Well. This is as good as we’re gonna get,” she nodded at her reflection. She stepped into her heels and grabbed her designated “work bag”—a present from her mom upon graduating law school. It was a beautiful black leather bag—designer, though Caroline didn’t really care—with a zipper closure on the top and several different compartments and pockets within—which Caroline adored. She double checked that she had her passport, driver’s license, and the new hire paperwork that Agent Hotchner had faxed to her. After checking her watch, which read 6:07, and looking her reflection up and down again, Caroline left her apartment and headed for the metro station.  
“Hi, excuse me,” she said upon entering the BAU’s headquarters at Quantico. “I have an appointment with SSA Aaron Hotchner.”  
“What time?” The receptionist asked.  
“Seven a.m.”  
The receptionist checked his watch. “Ma’am, you’re twenty minutes early.”  
“Yes, I know. Can you just let him know that I’m here once he gets into the office?” The receptionist agreed, shaking his head slightly at the overeager young woman.  
Three minutes later, Hotch walked out into the lobby, scanning the few occupants for who might be his new agent. His eyes landed on a young woman with light brown hair surveying the lobby from an armchair in the corner, with sharp, dark eyes and a notably well-tailored suit. As he approached, she looked up and met his gaze. In seconds, she stood and was striding over to meet him.  
“Caroline McIntyre?” Hotch asked as they reached each other.  
“Yes, that’s right,” she smiled. “Agent Hotchner, I presume.” She extended her hand. He took it firmly, watching as she quickly sized him up. She was shorter than him, but not by much, standing at about 5’11” in heels.  
“Yes. It’s good to finally meet you,” Hotchner smiled gently at her. She looked younger than he’d expected her to—she had a round face and lightly flushed cheeks that made her look innocent, youthful.  
“You too! Mr. Mueller has told me wonderful things about you and your team,” she said, returning his smile. “I’ll admit, though, I’m a little surprised you’re here before 7. Is it typical for agents to come into the office this early?”  
“Not necessarily,” Hotch said. “I usually come in early and stay late. My work often requires it. The other agents usually come in around 8:30 or 9.” Caroline nodded and noted that his speech was slow, deliberate. She considered adjusting her own rapid-fire pace to match, but decided against it.  
“I don’t need to impress him,” she thought. “There was a reason why I got this job. I don’t need to prove myself.”  
“If you’d follow me, please, I’ll show you to our offices.” Hotchner started towards the elevators with long strides that Caroline matched. She guessed he was about 40, and smiled to herself as she noted that he looked good for his age—she knew she shouldn’t check him out, but she noticed that his ass hadn’t fallen yet, and his hair hadn’t started to thin.  
“He’s probably in great shape, too,” she thought, smiling to herself and recalling the rigorous physical testing she’d undergone before being formally offered the position of agent. She prided herself on being in excellent shape herself—she’d been a swimmer for most of her youth, ending her competitive career after high school though maintaining it as her main form of exercise. She found that it gave her good time to think, as all she could do in the water was listen to her thoughts as they rushed past.  
“So, tell me about yourself,” Hotchner said as they waited for the elevator. Caroline grinned to hide her discomfort—small talk wan’t necessarily her strong suit.  
“Are you telling me they didn’t give you a file containing all of my deepest, darkest secrets?” she joked. Hotch didn’t smile.  
“No, I’ve read your file. I just want to hear it from you,” Hotchner said, evidently not catching her joke. He stepped through the elevator doors. Caroline followed, blinking in disbelief.  
“Sorry, you’ve read my file?”  
“All agents have one. We create it when they get hired, and update it as their career progresses.”  
“Oh, okay,” Caroline smoothed her slacks as she caught a glance at her reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors. “Well, what do you want to know?”  
“Why did you decide to join the BAU?”  
“Um, well, as I’m guessing my file told you, I just finished law school. I wanted to be a lawyer because I thought prosecuting would let me bring criminals to justice, but when I was an intern for a big league prosecutor, we were prosecuting someone who was totally and completely innocent—I just knew, instinctively. We ended up sending him to jail. I realized that prosecuting really isn’t the most fair or just process in the judicial system, so I started looking for different career paths. Mueller approached me about joining the BAU. We had dinner together, he explained to me what profilers do, how you guys catch some of the worst criminals in the country and bring them to justice, and I was hooked. It just felt right to me. If you can’t tell, I operate a lot on gut feelings,” she trailed off, catching herself before she launched into a stream of consciousness monologue. Hotch nodded as the elevator doors opened, revealing the BAU offices.  
“That’s a legitimate reason,” he said. “After you.” He motioned for her to exit, and she stepped into her new office.  
“My first adult job, and it’s with the FBI,” she thought. “Not too shabby.”  
“This way.” Hotch led Caroline through the center of the room and up a flight of stairs, towards what she presumed was his office. She took in the rest of the space as they walked through, noting the clusters of desks in a lowered part of the office. She hoped he would offer her a tour of the space, but he simply stood outside the doorway of his office, motioning for her to enter. She did, and he closed the door behind them.  
“Please, take a seat,” he said, indicating a chair in front of his desk. Caroline sat, unbuttoning her blazer and watching as Hotch rounded the desk and sat down. “This morning, we’re just going to focus on basic procedures of the BAU and what your role in the team will be. At lunch, you’ll have a chance to meet with the other agents, and then we’ll resume your training after. We’re going to cover a lot of information today, so I’ll need you to pay close attention. I’m sure you’re aware that you are in an extraordinary situation, joining the BAU with no previous Bureau experience.” Caroline detected a hint of disdain in his tone, which she decided was almost justified. She was certainly inexperienced, and she assumed that placed a great deal of stress on her new boss, and probably her new team.  
“I understand. You have my full attention,” she assured him, pulling a pen and a legal pad out of her bag. He nodded, straight faced, and began what turned out to be about a two hour information dump full of unfamiliar terms and the ins and outs of profiling a criminal.  
“Let’s take a short break,” Hotch said, checking his watch. “We’ll reconvene in five minutes. There’s coffee in the break room, if you drink it. Right through there,” he pointed though the glass wall of his office into another room on the lower level. “I’m going to go check in on my team, see if anything has come up.”  
“Sounds good,” Caroline agreed, watching him stroll out of the office, wondering if his use of “my” was intentional, if he was trying to slight her. She brushed it off, taking a second to go over the notes she’d taken on Hotch’s lecture. It turned out her position on the team was more complex than she’d assumed, which resulted in her scrawling notes about tiny intricacies and methods to keep in mind. She sighed, set the legal pad and pen on Hotch’s desk, and walked down to the break room to pour herself a cup of coffee. There were six or seven people milling about the office, several sizing her up as she walked through the pit in the center. Making sure to keep her head high and her shoulders squared, she strolled across the office.  
“Morning!” Caroline was greeted by a tall, lanky man when she reached the break room. She quickly scanned him, taking in his sweater vest, baggy pants, and the gun holster on the front of his right hip.  
“Uh, hi,” she replied, more than a little awkward. He didn’t seem to notice.  
“You’re Caroline McIntyre, right?”  
“Yeah, that’s me,” she smiled. “And you are…?”  
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he replied.  
“It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Reid.” She offered her hand for him to shake, though he ignored it.  
“I’d rather not. You wouldn’t believe the number of germs shaking hands can transfer,” he explained.  
“Oh, right,” she said.  
“I just brewed that coffee, if you want some.” With that, Reid left the break room, and Caroline turned to the coffee machine, blinking in confusion. She shook her head to clear it, and pulled a styrofoam cup off of a stack. She poured a splash of coffee, took a sip to assess its quality, then smiled to herself. It was a damn good brew, stronger than most office coffee she’d encountered. She filled her cup and returned to Hotch’s office, walking slowly to avoid sloshing it on her suit. Hotch was seated behind his desk again when she returned.  
“Are you ready to continue?” he asked.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Excellent. As you know, many of the cases we are brought in for involve graphic and disturbing crimes. I will admit I’m worried about how you might handle these seeing as you have virtually no experience in the field.” Hotch gave Caroline a hard look. It took everything in her not to squirm in her seat.  
“C’mon, Carol,” she thought. “He might be your superior, but you can’t let him see you squirm.”  
“Keeping this in mind, I had originally planned on not bringing you along on crime scene investigations until you’d done some remote work with us—staying in the offices of wherever we travel, not actually visiting crime scenes or attempting to track down the un-sub.” Hotch shifted some papers on his desk, then returned to making stern eye contact. “Mueller disagreed with this decision. He wants you to start field work as soon as possible, and he wants you to work closely with the rest of the team. I told him I would leave that up to you.”  
“Are you saying that I have the choice of doing hard, uncomfortable work or sitting back and letting the rest of the team tackle it?” Caroline asked, studying Hotchner.  
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s your call.” It felt very much like a loaded question, with either choice alienating an important figure. Is it better to go against the wishes of the Director of the FBI or your own unit chief?  
“Do I have to tell you right now?” Caroline glanced down at her notes, frustrated at their disorganization. “I’d love to have a day or so to think on it—there’s still a lot for me to process right now.”  
“I need your answer by the end of the day, Caroline. Cases come in quickly—I’ll need to know with absolute certainty what role you’ll be playing in the next one. I’m not sure if you’ve realized this or not, but adding a new member to a tight-knit team like this can cause a shift in the team’s dynamics. I need to be able to plan for that, and counter it as effectively as possible.”  
“Of course. I understand that, sir, I just want to make sure I’ve processed everything that will be required of me. I don’t want to choose the easy way out and then find myself wanting more, but I would hate to bite off more than I can chew and then be a burden on the rest of the team.”  
“I respect that, but I still need you to decide by the end of the day. Please think on it while we work today,” Hotch stated. Caroline could tell it wasn’t so much a request as it was an order. She started making a mental pro and con list of jumping straight into field work. “Do you have any questions based on what we’ve covered so far?” He asked, closing the file that was in front of him and pulling another thicker file from a stack.  
“No, sir.” Caroline took a long swig of her coffee, glancing at Hotch over the rim. His face betrayed no emotion as he shuffled through the new folder.  
“We’ll move onto specific policies, then. Even as an FBI agent, there are some lines you can’t cross.” Hotch laid out rules for working with local law enforcement, branches of the armed forces, and just about any organization the BAU might encounter in their work. By the time they stopped for lunch, Caroline had filled four pages of her legal pad with important procedures and bits of information she wanted to make record of.  
“We’re going to meet the agents for lunch, now,” Hotchner said, standing up. “How do you feel about Thai food?”  
“I actually love it,” she replied, following him out of the office.  
“Excellent.” Hotchner looked around the office, evidently not seeing any of the other agents. “We’ll drive together. The others have already gone—we’ll meet them there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, welcome to my first substantial fic attempt since I was like 14 or 15. quarantine really does things to ya, doesn't it? ("things" being giving you time to binge watch the early seasons of criminal minds which makes you fall in love with hotch to the point that you have to write stories about him). anyway, updates coming soon. thanks for reading xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

At the local Thai restaurant, the waitress—a college student, working the midday shift in hopes of getting good tips from corporate lunches—startled slightly when a motley group of six men and women entered the restaurant’s lobby. The restaurant was a classy place, popular with business people and government officials. This group stood out from the usual suits who came in, with two women dressed in full suits, a man wearing jeans and a blazer, another man in slacks with a sweater vest, a third man in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and a woman wearing a bright multicolored dress with pink highlights in her hair.

“Hi, table for six?” the waitress asked, looking to the oldest man.

“Actually, we have a reservation for eight, should be under Hotchner,” Rossi said.

“Oh, yep, I’ve gotcha! Follow me,” she smiled, leading the agents to a circular table in the back corner. As the agents seated themselves, the waitress asked, “Can I get started with drinks for everyone?”

The agents ordered their drinks and some appetizers for the table, then set about looking over their menus.

“I’m dying to know,” started Garcia after a minute of silence, “has anyone met her yet?”

“Garcia, they’ll be here any minute,” JJ said, glancing at the entrance.

“I ran into her in the break room,” Reid said.

“What was she like?” Garcia asked, setting down her menu.

“She seemed nice. Pretty tall, fast talker.”

“What did you two talk about?” Rossi asked.

“Not much. She came in to get coffee; we introduced ourselves; she tried to shake my hand.”

“Of course you wouldn’t let her,” JJ laughed. Reid shrugged.

“I saw her walking through the bullpen when I came in. She looked like she was trying to be intimidating,” Morgan said. “Broad shoulders, straight back, looking down her nose. You know the walk.”

“She doesn’t look severe enough to actually be intimidating,” Reid said.

“Yeah, she’s really got a baby face,” Morgan laughed. “She’s cute, though.”

“You’d better not flirt with her, Morgan,” Prentiss warned, only half joking. “Don’t wanna scare her away.”

“Yeah, hot stuff. Leave her alone. You already have a coworker you can flirt with.” Garcia winked at him.

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” Morgan laughed. “She’s too young for me, anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second,” Prentiss teased.

“Wait, guys, that’s them,” JJ said, nodding towards the entrance. Hotch had just walked in, Caroline in tow.

“Act casual, act casual!” Garcia urged. The rest of the team just laughed. As the pair approached the table, the agents stood up.

“Hello, everyone,” Hotch said.

“Hi,” Caroline smiled.

“This is Caroline McIntyre, our newest team member.” Hotch gestured to the young woman in question, noticing a vaguely anxious look in her eyes. She looked around at the members of the team, noting that apart from Reid, they all appeared to be in their thirties. One man looked like he could be older, probably around 50.

“Caroline, these are Agents David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, and Doctor Spencer Reid,” Hotch said, nodding to the agents in question as he went around the table.

“I briefly met Doctor Reid this morning. It’s great to meet the rest of you,” she said, smiling at each of her new team members.

“Please, everyone, sit down,” Hotch said, taking a seat next to Rossi. Caroline sat at the other empty chair, between Hotch and Reid. “Myself, Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are the primary profilers on the team. JJ helps us on some cases, but she mostly acts as our press liaison and communications manager. Garcia is our technical analyst,” Hotch explained. “Caroline will be doing work with you all as a profiler, just as soon as we finish her training.”

Everyone at the table nodded in acknowledgement, some moving to peruse the menu.

“So, Caroline,” Rossi began, not picking his menu back up. “has Hotch here made you think twice about joining the BAU yet?”

“No, not yet,” she laughed. “There’s still time, though. From what I can gather, we have a lot of information to go over still.”

“There’s a lot that goes into this job,” Hotch said.

“Very true,” said Rossi. “In any case, we’re all glad to have you on the team, Caroline.”

“Thank you, sir,” she grinned.

“Please, just call me Rossi,” he said.

“Can I get y’all anything to drink?” The waitress asked the newcomers.

“Yeah, water, please,” Caroline said when Hotch motioned for her to go first.

“I’ll also have water,” Hotch said. The waitress nodded.

“Your appetizers will be right out,” she said, walking away. The agents were quiet for a minute as they read the menu. Caroline took a quick glance around the table, committing names to memory. After a minute or so, the waitress returned with drinks for Hotch and Caroline and appetizers—some skewers, dumplings, and an assortment of grilled vegetables.

“I can take your orders, if y’all are ready.”

“Caroline, would you like to start?” Hotch asked.

“Uh, sure. Could I please have the chicken pad see-ew?” Caroline asked. The waitress nodded, writing on her notepad.

“And for you?” She asked Reid, continuing around the table.

Once everyone had placed their orders, the agents turned their attention to Caroline.

“So, McIntyre,” Morgan started. “Hotch told us you went to U Chicago for your undergrad?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said. “Why?”

“I’m from there—did a few years as a Chicago cop.”

“Oh, cool! It’s a great city.”

“And you got your J.D. from Yale? That’s one of the top law schools in the country, if I’m not mistaken. No small feat,” Rossi said, taking a sip of his wine—Caroline thought it was an odd choice for a work lunch, but brushed it off. He looked like he was Italian, which in her mind pretty much explained it.

“It’s actually the number one law school,” Reid said. “Has been for years.”

“Very impressive,” JJ smiled. “You know, Hotch used to be a prosecutor.”

“Actually I didn’t know that! He didn’t mention it,” Caroline said, turning to her boss. “Where’d you go to law school?”

“George Washington University,” he said, not looking at her. “That was a long time ago.”

“You talk like you’re an old man, Hotch,” Rossi laughed. “You were still a prosecutor until, what, ten years ago?”

“Why’d you join the BAU, Caroline?” Prentiss asked, sensing that Hotch wasn’t in the mood to be grilled about his past jobs.

“Well, I got kinda disillusioned with law and started looking for other things I could do. Becoming a prosecutor just didn’t feel right anymore. In the fall of my third year, I applied to the FBI. A few months later, I got a call from Robert Mueller—you should’ve seen the look on my face, oh my God—and he offered me a spot in the BAU. He told me if I accepted the position, I would go into training as soon as I graduated. Did a month and a half of training, and here we are.”

“You only had to train for a month and a half?” Morgan asked.

“Well, yeah,” Caroline replied. “I guess it was special circumstances? They just kinda sped me through everything. I wasn’t in a class—it was only me.”

“So, any hobbies? Fun facts?” Garcia asked.

Caroline shrugged. “Like what?”

“I dunno, tell us what you do in your free time,” Garcia said.

“Um, I read a lot. I guess I don’t really have any hobbies since I didn’t have too much free time in law school.”

“I know what that’s like,” Hotchner agreed. Prentiss blinked in disbelief.

“Whoa, you got Hotch to share something personal about his time as a lawyer!” she joked, smiling across the table at Hotch. The rest of the team laughed.

“What can I say,” Hotch smiled lightly at Prentiss, “law school is an all-consuming experience.”

“He’s not wrong, either,” Caroline agreed. “Some days you have so much reading you can’t even find time to eat.”

“So, Caroline, where are you from?” JJ asked.

“I’m originally from a town a little bit west of Pittsburgh.”

“Wait, you’re from Pittsburgh?” JJ burst out into a grin. “So am I!”

“No way! What part?”

“East Allegheny, you?”  
“Wexford! God, that’s crazy!” Caroline shook her head. “Where’d you do your undergrad?”

“I stayed local, went to Pitt.”

“Nice, nice. I almost went there. They’ve got a really good chemistry program.”

“Do you have family in the D.C. area?” Prentiss asked Caroline.

“No, no, it’s just me down here,” she replied. “My parents and extended family are all further north. They’re not big on the humidity that we get down here.”

“Well, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask any of us,” Prentiss said warmly. “Our team is really kind of like a weird little family. We’re all here for you, whatever you need.” Garcia, JJ, and Rossi agreed.

“Thank you so much!” Caroline grinned. “I’m honestly really excited to be part of this team.”

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, with the agents warming up to Caroline and her getting to know them all a little. Even Hotch cracked a smile once or twice, thinking that maybe adding an inexperienced member to the team wouldn’t be such a catastrophe.

“Your check, sir,” the waitress handed the check to Hotch, correctly assuming he was in charge of the group. “Will y’all be splitting the bill?”

“No, thank you,” he said, pulling out his wallet and sliding out a card. “Here.” He handed the check back to the waitress.

“Thank you. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, smiling at Hotch.

“You’re such a gentleman, Hotch,” Garcia said, half flirting.

“It’s a company card,” he said seriously. She frowned.

“You’re not gonna play along?”

“C’mon, baby girl, that’s our thing,” Morgan said. Caroline furrowed her brow and glanced around at the other agents, but no one moved to explain. In fact, no one seemed bothered at all—they just continued conversation as if nothing had happened.

“JJ, any potential cases?” Hotch asked.

“Dozens, always,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorting through a few time sensitive ones this afternoon, I’ll have them on your desk before five.”

“Good, thank you. McIntyre, you’ll ride back with me,” Hotch said. She nodded, wondering why he’d switched to calling her by her last name. “If anyone else wants to join us, you’re welcome to, just to empty out your SUV.”

“We’ll stick together,” Garcia said, possibly too quickly. “So we don’t interrupt or distract from Caroline’s training,” she added. Caroline could tell Garcia was covering for the fact that the rest of the team wanted to talk about the events of lunch.

Hotch and Caroline returned to their SUV without talking much. Finally, the silence was too much for Caroline—while she didn’t care for small talk, she couldn’t stand sitting in prolonged silence.

“The team seems awesome,” she said, turning to look at Hotch. He had a small smile on his face.

“They’re the best and most capable people I know,” he agreed. She assumed this was high praise from him; he definitely wasn’t a warm and fuzzy, affectionate man.

“I’ve been thinking all morning,” she began, staring out the windshield, “and I’ve decided I want to jump right in with this job. I want to be in the field.” She felt his gaze shift from the road to look at her for a moment. She didn’t turn her head.

“You’re sure.” It wasn’t really a question—he said it as a statement.

“Yes, sir. I know you have your hesitations about it, but after meeting the other agents and learning more about how the profiling process works…I have the sense that this kind of work is something that you learn better by doing, rather than sitting back and observing.”  
“If that’s how you feel,” he said slowly, “we’ll give it a shot.”

“I feel good about this, Agent Hotchner.” Caroline felt like she might be crossing a line, but she steeled herself and said, “I’d appreciate it if you would just have a little faith in me.”

Hotchner was quiet for a minute. He didn’t want to raise his voice at her on her first day, but she was very near being disrespectful. “I do have faith in you, Caroline,” he began, his voice low, rough. “The issue is that you haven’t had exposure to the kinds of things my team deals with daily. I worry that throwing yourself in the middle of a serial killer investigation could be emotionally harrowing for you.”

Caroline considered this. “I appreciate your concern, sir. I just think I can handle it. I’m not as delicate as you may think. I can promise you that.” The two were quiet for the rest of the car ride.

In the SUV with the rest of the team, conversation was nearly constant. Morgan was at the wheel, with Prentiss shotgun and everyone else in the backseat rows.

“Does anyone else think she’s a little idealistic?” Morgan asked. “All that stuff she said about being ‘disillusioned’ with law school and wanting to join the FBI to do the right thing or whatever?”

“I didn’t really think anything of it,” Reid said. “It’s a logical reason.”

“I think Prince Charming is just upset that she didn’t seem interested in him,” Garcia said, grinning.

“Why do you think I want her to be into me?”

“You’re famously the team’s lady killer,” she replied. “And the youngest and newest member of the team didn’t swoon over you.”

“That’s gotta hurt your ego,” JJ chimed in. Morgan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. I still think she’s too young for this.”

“I’m actually with Morgan on this one,” Prentiss agreed. “She doesn’t have any experience in profiling—that won’t make it easy to actually contribute to the team. At least for her first few cases, she may just be dead weight that we all have to pull.”

“I don’t think so,” JJ said. “She seems capable enough.”

“You’re just loyal to her because you’re both Pittsburgh natives,” Morgan said.

“Guys, we don’t need to argue over this,” Rossi spoke up from the furthest back row. “Whether she is or isn’t a valuable addition at first, she will improve. There’s a learning curve to this job; you all know that. Just help her up when she stumbles, and in a month or so, when we’re all used to working with her, things will be just like they are now.”

The agents were quiet for a moment, until Reid spoke up.

“Where’s her desk gonna be?” The team joked around, and continued discussing what might be different with an eighth member on the team.

* * *

Upon arriving at headquarters, Hotch led Caroline back up to his office and resumed her training. He made sure to reinforce policies and procedures for field work, as he wanted to ensure her first assignment went as smoothly as possible—for her own sake, as well as the team’s. Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he was worried about where she would fit into the profiling process. Most of his team had been working together for years, while Caroline had never even constructed a criminal profile.

“I should just work it into the training,” Hotch thought when they took a break. It was already 4 p.m. He didn’t want to keep her in for a 12 hour day, but a case might come in at any minute—JJ had guaranteed that when she said she’d have files to him by five. He went to Garcia’s office and knocked lightly on the door.

“Enter if you dare,” she called.

“Garcia, can you fax me our three most recent case briefs,” he asked. “I’m going to give McIntyre copies of them to go over. Hopefully it helps familiarize her with our work.”

“On it!” she said. “Sending them to your office. They’ll be ready by the time you get back.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Oh, and sir?”

“Yes, Garcia?”

“I think she’ll fit in great here. I can tell you’re doubting her, but I have a feeling she’s actually more like you than you might think. Just tell her what you wish you’d known coming in.”

Hotch nodded, a little vacantly, and left Garcia’s office. She blinked, expecting him to say something about how training was his job and she wasn’t in a place to add input to his process. As he walked back to his office, however, Hotch actually though about what she had suggested.

“What did I want to know when I first started here?” he wondered. It was over a decade already—he could barely think of what he wanted to know back then. He returned to his office and found Caroline had already returned with another cup of coffee and was reading over the rigorous notes she’d been taking all day. “It’s good to know she’s taking this seriously,” he thought. 

“Your fax machine went off when you were gone,” she informed him.

“I had Garcia send me some documents,” he said, picking up the papers in question. Separating them into three piles, he stapled each and handed them to Caroline. “These are the write-ups of three of our most recent cases,” he told her. “I want you to have them to look over. I think they’ll help. We’re also going to shift our focus a bit for the next hour or so—I’m going to show you the basic profiling procedure.”

“Haven’t we already gone over that—”

“This is going to be more hands on. I’m going to describe a crime, and I want you to tell me what we can gather about the un-sub from the description.”

“Okay,” Caroline furrowed her brow, preparing to focus on whatever information he threw her way.

“First, say you arrive on a crime scene where a couple was murdered in their sleep. Both of them were killed in bed, with multiple injuries to their torsos and slashes to their throats. What can you infer about the un-sub?”

“Both of the victims were found in bed?” Caroline asked. Hotch nodded. “Was there any sign of a struggle? Or that one of them had attempted to escape?”

“No.”

“Well, then there’d have to be two un-subs, right? I’d imagine someone would wake up if their spouse was killed in bed next to them, and they’d try to make a run for it. If that didn’t happen, it means there’s two perpetrators and that they attacked at the same time.”

“What else?”

“Stabbing and slashing obviously means they used knives, which I’d say is more personal than a gun shot. The un-subs probably had reason to target this couple—maybe a work disagreement or they were in a social circle and the victims somehow slighted the un-subs. If this is part of a series of murders, there’s probably an overlapping trait between this couple and other victims.”

“Not bad,” Hotch said. “In fact,” he thought, “for a first shot that’s actually quite good.”

He ran over several other scenarios with her, going so far as to show her a series of photos from a set of crime scenes and asking her to profile the un-sub. She managed to deliver adequate profiles of each un-sub, usually faltering on identifying gender and age. Hotch decided that was forgivable—the rest of the team would be able to come up with that no problem. At 4:30, JJ knocked on his door.

“Hey, Hotch,” she said. “I’ve got the cases for you.”

“Great, come in,” he said, rising to meet her. She handed him a stack of folders.

“Just a heads up, for the one on top, we’d have to leave as soon as possible. Possible serial murders, with the cooling off period rapidly decreasing.”

“How rapidly are we talking?” Hotch asked, flipping open the file.

"Well, when he started killing, he waited three months between victims. This time, he waited about a week.”

“When was the last victim found?” Hotch asked, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

“Three days ago,” JJ responded. Hotch opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “When do you want to brief the team?”

“Gather them now,” he said. “We’ll be right in.” JJ nodded and headed out to alert the team.

“Jesus,” Caroline breathed, staring blankly at Hotch’s desk. “You weren’t kidding when you said things came up out of nowhere.”

“I don’t ‘kid’ about any part of this job,” Hotch responded, sliding open his desk drawer. “Before JJ briefs us, I have something for you.” He took three items from his desk drawer. Caroline stood up to see them better: a handgun, an ID card, and a passport sized book. “Your gun, your ID, and your credentials,” Hotch said, watching her expression closely. “Since they fast tracked you through the Academy, they didn’t have your credentials ready to give to you when you completed the courses. These came in for you yesterday. The gun is a Glock 17—it’s what most of us use.” Hotch handed her the gun first, carefully, then her ID and badge.

“I don’t know what to say,” Caroline said. “Thank you.”

“The ID card will give you access to the building and to the office,” Hotch said. “You’re to keep your gun and credentials with you at all times, unless you are off-duty or otherwise on leave. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Caroline said, flipping open her credentials to admire it: _Caroline McIntyre, Supervisory Special Agent._ Her face broke out into a wide grin.

“Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Agent McIntyre,” Hotch said, reaching out to shake her hand. Caroline took his hand and smiled at him, the brightest smile she’d given Hotch all day.

“Thank you, sir.” He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Of course. Let’s go hear JJ’s briefing,” he said, walking out of the office.


	3. Chapter 3

“Three days ago, the bodies of six missing girls were found in the forest near Fort Collins, Colorado,” JJ said, gesturing towards a screen with six photos of corpses in varying degrees of decay. “They were all found in a remote area of Lory State Park. Local authorities estimate the first body was dumped about ten months ago, and the most recent was only dumped two weeks ago.”  
“Six victims over ten months?” Rossi asked. “That’s one almost every two months.”  
“Actually, based on the states of the bodies, they estimate he waited about three months before taking the second victim. His cooling off period has shortened drastically since then—the coroner estimates the un-sub only waited a week after the death of the previous victim to abduct the most recent, though we’re still waiting for official results.”  
“Three months down to 7 days?” Morgan looked around the table. “It sounds like he’s devolving.”  
“If he is, we don’t have much time to waste,” Hotch said. “We’re heading out tonight. Wheels up in forty.” The agents nodded and left the room, each going to their desk to pack up. “McIntyre, how far from here do you live?”  
“Thirty minutes by metro,” she said. “Probably 15 if we drive.”  
“Okay. I’ll drive you home so you can pack your go bag, and we’ll meet everyone else at the airport.” Caroline nodded and followed him back up to his office. They went out to the garage, got in the SUV and Caroline set about directing Hotch to her apartment complex. He sped the entire drive, sometimes weaving between cars—he was a more reckless driver than Caroline would’ve thought. She guessed he was attempting to shave time off of the drive.  
“Um, so, what do I need to put in a ‘go bag?’” she asked as they neared her apartment. Hotch was quiet for a moment, considering his answer.  
“I usually pack two to four days worth of clothing, toiletries, anything else you use daily,” he replied. “I would say pack for three to four days for this case—it doesn’t look like it will be a quick solve. And bring good walking shoes, when bodies are found in the woods, it usually means we’ll be doing some hiking.”  
“Gotcha. Turn left up here.”  
Once they reached Caroline’s apartment—part of a fairly run down complex, Hotch noted—Caroline got out of the SUV and walked quickly up to her building while Hotch remained in the car. She went upstairs, pulling her usual carry-on bag out of her closet and stuffing in two professional outfits, a casual outfit to wear in the field, pajamas, and enough underwear and socks for four days. She tossed her toiletry pouch into the bag, along with her hiking boots.  
“What else, what else,” she muttered, tapping her fingers on her thighs. She thought for a minute, walking around her apartment to double check if there was anything else she needed. Satisfied she had packed everything, she locked up and went back out to meet Hotch.  
“Do you have everything?” he asked.  
“Yeah, I think,” she said. “Let’s go.”  
They reached the airport five minutes before they were scheduled to take off. Hotch led Caroline up the stairs into the cabin where the rest of the team was already waiting. They were seated facing each other in the middle of the plane—Morgan perched on the arm of a small sofa, with everyone else around a small table—with case files open and a laptop connecting the team with Garcia via video chat. Morgan motioned for Caroline to come stand by him, while Hotch stood at the edge of the table where the computer camera could see him.  
“What do we know about the victims, Garcia?” Hotch asked, wanting to waste no time.  
“Dental records have ID’ed all six women. Our most recent was Sarah Barnes, 22. She was reported missing on May 16, a week before she died.”  
“Did he hold all of his victims that long?” Prentiss asked.  
“Yes, all six were missing for about a week before they died. These are the photos from their missing person files,” Garcia said as six headshots appeared on screen. “Notice anything?”  
“They’re practically identical,” JJ said after a moment. “Blonde hair, brown eyes, square jaw. He’s definitely got a type, and he’s strict about it.”  
“If his cooling off period is still getting shorter, chances are he’s already picked up his next victim,” Morgan said. “Baby girl, have there been any other missing women in the area who fit the type?”  
“If there are, I will find them and send them to you,” Garcia said.  
“Garcia, send me the reports so we can gauge how much his cooling off period has shortened,” Hotch requested.  
“Already done, sir, they should be on your handheld.”  
“Thanks. What was the cause of death for each victim?”  
“Mercury poisoning, according to the autopsy.”  
“Wait, what kind of mercury was it? Elemental, organic, inorganic?” Caroline asked.  
“I do not know, but I will make sure the lab sends you the forensic toxicology report as soon as it’s available,” Garcia said. In the background, the agents could hear her fingers flying across her keyboard, delivering on her promise.  
“Any signs of sexual assault? Or other injuries?” Prentiss asked.  
“Negative on sexual assault, but each of the victims has several puncture wounds in their elbow creases. It’s suspected that they were entry points for needles.”  
“How many punctures counts as ‘several?’” Prentiss asked.  
“On Sarah Barnes, there were six, all on her right arm.” “Any idea what she was injected with? Or any of the others, for that matter,” JJ asked.  
“It’s not supposed that any illicit substances were used. All six girls were clean from any traces of drugs. The medical examiner said it might have been an IV,” Garcia said.  
“Why would our un-sub give his victims an IV when he’s actively poisoning them?” Morgan asked.  
“Let’s not worry about that just yet,” Rossi said. “Let’s focus on his M.O. Clearly, he has a medical background, if he’s administering IV’s and poisoning his victims with a neurotoxin like mercury.”  
“Actually, it may be more likely that our un-sub is female. All of our victims are women, they all fit a very specific type, but they haven’t suffered any sexual abuse,” Reid pointed out. “That wouldn’t make a lot of sense for a male un-sub—typically men who abduct women based on appearance are looking for some sort of sexual gratification.”  
“I’m with Reid on that one,” Prentiss said. “Plus, IV’s are typically a function performed by nurses, and, regardless of gender politics, it’s statistically more likely for a nurse to be a woman.”  
“Okay, so if our un-sub is a woman, what’s her reason for kidnapping these girls? Why hold them for a week, only to poison them in the end?” Morgan asked.  
“Well, since she’s using mercury, she’d have to start poisoning them the same day she takes them,” Caroline stated. The team turned to look at her, questioning. Gaining confidence, she began to speak more quickly. “Like Rossi said, mercury is a neurotoxin, but it takes a pretty long time, usually months, to build up within your body. The un-sub would have to use a seriously substantial amount of of mercury to kill the girls in a week. Take this with a grain of salt, but she’d have to use a dose of at least five milliliters at first, probably even more to make sure it sets in by the end of the week. Once it did, these girls would be experiencing muscular weakness, impaired mental function, and their nervous systems would be shutting down. By the seventh or eighth day they’d be…you know,” she trailed off. “I mean, all of this depends on the type of mercury she’s using. Every kind has different effects.”  
“I think we can pretty much rule out any forms of inorganic mercury,” Reid chimed in, “If the she’d used a compound like mercuric chloride, the symptoms would’ve presented as kidney failure, stomach ulcers, stuff like that. I think the M.E. would have told us if they found any of that.”  
“Yeah, that sounds right,” Caroline said when Reid finished. “Based on this timeline, I’d say we’re looking at dimethyl mercury. Any other form probably wouldn’t be potent enough to cause these kind of effects in one week—diethyl mercury is seriously toxic. Even if you only get a couple drops of it on your hand, it could kill you in a few months.”  
“Jesus, I don’t even want to know how you two know all that,” Morgan said.  
“Listen, I’m just trying to rationalize the process of mercury poisoning—knowing all of this helps us explain more of the M.O., doesn’t it?” Caroline defended her point.  
“She’s right,” Hotch said. “We should be looking for women with medical backgrounds who would know how mercury poisoning manifests, and who would have access to different forms of mercury. Let’s shift to victimology.”  
“The rigid type she’s following likely reflects a strong connection with someone she lost. Maybe she had a daughter or a sister who died from mercury poisoning?” Rossi said.  
“Garcia, can you find out if anyone in the Fort Collins area died from mercury poisoning in the last year?” Reid asked. The sound of furious typing came from the computer, then silence for a second.  
“That’s a negative.”  
“Check back further,” Hotch suggested. “Look for anything in the last ten years.”  
“Uh, we have two hits,” Garcia said. “A Mr. James Edwards and a Ms. Wendy Mason.”  
“Does Mason fit the type?” Prentiss asked. Garcia was quiet as she read the file.  
“No, she doesn’t. Brown hair, blue eyes, 47 years old. She’s not your girl.”  
“Expand the search to nationwide, Garcia. Look for anyone who died within ten years who fits the type,” Hotch said.  
“That’s going to take…a while, sir. I mean, a decade of nationwide results—”  
“Work on it while we’re on the plane. We’ll let you go for now.”  
“Okay. Stay safe, my loves!” Garcia said, hanging up on the video call  
“Why might our un-sub be poisoning these women if it’s not related to a past trauma?” Hotch asked.  
“Maybe the mercury poisoning is an unintended side effect. She could be injecting these women with some kind of drug and accidentally poisoning them?” Rossi speculated.  
“I don’t think that’s likely,” Caroline disagreed. “Mercury isn’t used in clinical drugs, so the un-sub would’ve had to concoct her own solution.”  
“That’s not necessarily true,” Reid said. “A mercuric compound, sodium ethylmercurithiosalicylate, is sometimes used in vaccines.”  
“Yeah, as a preservative. It wouldn’t be in high enough concentration to kill someone in a week, unless you inject it in ridiculously high volumes. Besides, why on earth would someone repeatedly vaccinate someone else?” Caroline countered.  
“We’ve seen stranger things,” Morgan said. “And repeated vaccinations could explain the needle marks.”  
“Who the _hell_ do you know that administers vaccines to your inner elbow?” Caroline asked incredulously.  
“You don’t need to get hostile, McIntyre,” Hotch warned.  
“She makes a good point, though,” Prentiss said. “Assuming the un-sub has a medical background, she would know to inject vaccines into major muscle groups.”  
“We’ll keep the vaccine theory in mind until we can examine the bodies to look for needle marks on major muscle groups. In the mean time, let’s assume the needle marks on the elbow were an IV,” Hotch said.  
“So, what would be the purpose of administering an IV to someone you’re poisoning?” Rossi asked.  
“It could be a way of prolonging the victim’s life so the un-sub can witness their suffering longer,” Prentiss suggested.  
“If she’s a sadist, she could get satisfaction from the slow shutting down of the victim’s body," Reid pointed out. "Think about it—as the victims are getting poisoned, they’d slowly lose their ability to speak, to think clearly. Even their vision would start to go once there was enough mercury in their systems. They’d be scared, probably in a good amount of pain—prolonging that might satisfy a sadist.”  
“Guys, what if the un-sub wasn’t administering an IV or vaccinating the victim,” JJ said, glancing around at the team. “Think about it: probably the most common medical procedure done on the inner elbow is bloodwork.” “You think the un-sub is drawing blood from the victims?” Hotch asked.  
“It would explain the marks, and it seems more likely than the un-sub trying to hydrate her victims with an IV,” JJ said.  
“Wait, that might make sense,” Caroline agreed. “And maybe the un-sub was monitoring the mercury levels in the victims’ bloodstreams via bloodwork.”  
“What’s she doing with the blood though?” Rossi asked. “It doesn’t seem like she would have any purpose for it.”  
“Maybe drawing blood is part of a sadistic process,” Prentiss suggested. “I mean, it’s not exactly a pleasant experience. And she might be less and less satisfied after each victim, which would explain the shorter cooling-off periods—she has to kill more frequently to satisfy the urge.”  
“No, I still think the shorter cooling-off period indicates that our un-sub is devolving,” Morgan replied.  
“That would mean the un-sub has some kind of psychosis, though, wouldn’t it?” Caroline asked. “This seems a bit too orderly for someone who’s psychotic.”  
“It doesn’t necessarily have to mean psychosis,” JJ said. “It could just show that the un-sub is getting frantic and desperate.”  
“In either case,” Hotch chimed in, “as she takes less time between victims, she’s going to get sloppy. When she makes a mistake, we’ll get her.” Hotch was cut off when the laptop screen lit up with a video call from Garcia.  
“I have bad news, guys,” she said. “I just got off the phone with the Fort Collins police. They said two girls who fit the type have been reported missing in since the last victim was taken. Rebecca Green, 22, and Ashton Crawford, 20.” Headshots of the two girls appeared on the screen.  
“Who was reported missing first?” Morgan asked.  
“Ashton was reported missing on May 25, and Rebecca was reported June 2.”  
“June 2? That’s only yesterday,” Caroline said.  
“If she’s already abducted another victim, that means Rebecca is probably dead,” Hotch said. “It’s not too late for Rebecca, though—as long as the M.O. doesn’t change, she has a week.”  
“We need to find out where the new dump site is,” Morgan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The old site is compromised—it’s been roped off by police and detectives. Where would she go next?”  
“We’ll have to get more information to determine that,” Hotch said, checking his watch. “We’ll be landing in about two and a half hours. Get some rest if you can—it’ll only be 6 o’clock local time when we land. We’ll head straight to the police station to get set up. Plan to work late.”  
The agents confirmed and moved to different spots around the plane to try to get some rest. Caroline took a seat on the couch, closing her eyes to focus on the thoughts racing through her mind. It was only her first day on the job, and she was already on a cross country flight to work her first case. Then, she realized she’d been up since 4:30 a.m., and she would likely be up much longer if the team was going to put in some work when they got to Fort Collins. She leaned her head back against the wall of the plane and willed herself to fall asleep.  
Caroline woke up an hour and a half later when the plane hit some turbulence. She shot up in her seat, glancing around the cabin to see that no one else had been disturbed. Hotch noticed her looking around the cabin and waved her over. She stood, taking a seat across from him.  
“Light sleeper?” he asked.  
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Always have been. It’s killer.”  
“I’m the same way,” he admitted. “After my son was born, I didn’t sleep through the night until he could.”  
“You have a son?”  
“Yeah, he just turned three.” He had a small smile, but Caroline could tell there was a lot of pride behind it.  
“I couldn’t imagine having to leave my kid all the time,” Caroline admitted. “Well, not ‘my kid’—I don’t have any, but you know what I mean…I bet you miss him like crazy when you’re away.”  
Hotch wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Always.” The two were quiet for a while, until Caroline thought of something.  
“Um, this might be kinda personal, but I was just wondering—why’d you stop working as a prosecutor?” Hotch was quiet, and Caroline half expected him not to answer. Finally, he looked at her and spoke.  
“It wasn’t proactive enough for me. I wasn’t satisfied sitting back and putting criminals in jail. I wanted to do more, to stop them before they had the chance to commit the crime instead of just dishing out their punishments after the fact.” He paused, evidently deep in thought. “I didn’t believe I was making enough of a difference as a prosecutor.”  
Caroline nodded. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said. Moments later, Prentiss joined their little group, sitting in the seat beside Hotch.  
“Let me guess: trouble sleeping?”  
“Sadly,” Caroline said. “I slept for maybe an hour and a half, but it might’ve done more harm than good.”  
“I guess we’ll see as the night goes on.” Prentiss cracked a smile. “To be fair, it’s kind of hard to take a nap at 6:30 p.m.”  
“Why can’t you sleep, Prentiss?” Hotch asked.  
"I can almost never sleep on planes,” she admitted. “Nine times out of ten, we have an overnight flight, I show up to the case sleep deprived.” Hotch shook his head, half smiling down at the file he was reading.  
“How long have you been with the BAU?” Caroline asked Prentiss.  
“A little over a year, I think,” she replied.  
“That sounds about right,” Hotch agreed, not looking up.  
“What did you do before this?”  
“I was an agent in other departments of the FBI,” Prentiss answered. “How’re you feeling about your first case?”  
“Honestly, I’m pretty nervous,” she admitted. She felt Hotch glance up at her, probably judging just how shaken up she was. “This is all totally uncharted territory for me—I don’t wanna mess things up.”  
“That’s a totally normal feeling,” Prentiss said. “It’s probably better to be scared than to go in cocky. A little bit of doubt can be really useful.”  
“Not too much doubt, though,” Hotch interrupted, shooting Prentiss a hard look. She raised her hands in a sort of surrender, allowing him to continue as he turned his attention to Caroline. “When you’re in the field, you’ve gotta go with your gut. You can’t take time to second guess yourself out there. That’s how people die.”  
“A bit intense, but true enough,” Prentiss said. Caroline turned to stare out the window. “What’s going through your head right now, kid?”  
Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes at being called kid, but then asked, “Do you ever get completely freaked out by…all of this? The murders, the un-subs?”  
“Yeah,” Prentiss admitted. “All of our un-subs are pretty messed up on a deep, psychological level. It’s normal to be thrown by it, but the team has your back, and we don’t go into dangerous situations without the right support and backup. Once you’ve got more experience, you’ll probably start to feel less apprehensive about all of it,” Prentiss replied.  
“Maybe I’m just thrown because the victims are my age,” Caroline said quietly. “Never thought I’d be responsible for catching someone who’s killing people my age.” Neither Prentiss nor Hotch had a response to that. The three simply sat quietly until the plane landed.


	4. Chapter 4

A Fort Collins police officer met the team as they exited the plane. “You must be the BAU,” she said. “Welcome. I’m Officer Kreutzer, Fort Collins PD.”  
“Thank you,” Hotch said, reaching out to shake her hand. She was short, probably about 45 years old, with dark hair that was starting to turn grey. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. These are Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Rossi, McIntyre, and Doctor Reid.”  
“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. If you’ll follow me, we have cars to take you to the station.” She led the BAU towards three parked SUVs, not dissimilar to those they used in Quantico. The team split up amongst the cars and rode along to the police station.  
The team got to the station at 6:30, and Officer Kreutzer led them back to the office where they would be working. “We’ve set aside two rooms for you all, and we’ve already got computers and phones set up.”  
“Can you get us two evidence boards and some coffee, please?” Hotch requested.  
“There are already boards in the conference room on the right, and I’ll set some coffee to brew. Go on in and get settled.”  
“Thank you.” Hotch turned to his agents. “Okay. Reid, you’ll set up the evidence boards. I’ll work on printing out everything Garcia has sent me since we left and getting those papers in order. Prentiss and Rossi, you two can start looking at the crime scene evidence we have. Work with the locals and see if they have any theories or suspects. JJ, consult with the local press, try to stall them from releasing anything too definitive on this. McIntyre and Morgan, you two will start making a more concrete preliminary profile.”  
There was a chorus of “yes, sir”s as the agents sprung into action. Caroline and Derek headed into one of the rooms that Officer Kreutzer had designated for them, Reid in tow, while Prentiss and Rossi went into the other.  
“God, I hope the coffee is ready soon,” Caroline groaned.  
“Didn’t sleep well on the plane?” Morgan asked.  
“Oh, the hour-long nap I took was just wonderful. Refreshing, even,” she said sarcastically.  
“Don’t worry, eventually you just learn to function on no sleep,” Morgan said. “Let’s get this profile going.”  
They wrote out everything the team said on the plane, then started connecting the pieces they agreed with and crossing out what they decided wasn’t as likely. Across the room from them, Reid started tacking a massive map of Fort Collins onto a large cork board.  
“So we know the un-sub is female. I’d say she’s probably between the ages of 30 and 40,” Morgan said.  
“She has experience in a medical field, most likely nursing, and has solid knowledge of toxins and their effects on the body,” Caroline continued. “I’d bet she has a good grasp of chemistry, too. But what do we know besides that?”  
“Well, she’s gotta be physically fit enough to subdue younger women and keep them hostage until they’re impaired enough not to run away,” Morgan said. “And she’d have some familiarity with local forests. She knows what trails are in use, where hikers tend to go or avoid, what areas have low enough foot traffic that she could dump six bodies there. She’s probably someone who’s lived here a long time.”  
“How’s she getting the bodies out to the dump site, though?” Caroline asked. “I mean, lugging a 130 pound corpse along a hiking trail isn’t exactly a piece of cake.”  
“When we go out tomorrow, we’ll take a look at the density of the woods and whether there’s a clear cut trail near the dump site. She could’ve been using some sort of vehicle to carry the bodies out there.”  
“What if she actually lives near the dump site?” Caroline mused. “I mean, I know it’s in the middle of the woods, but she could have a cabin or something out there, right? It would make it more plausible that she’s able to get the bodies out there.”  
"It certainly could explain it…” Morgan stared across the room at the map Reid had posted, examining the red circles indicating the dump site and the homes of each of the victims. “We need to find out where each of the girls was abducted from,” Morgan said. “That’ll show us the un-sub’s comfort zone, and it might help us determine where she’s keeping them.”  
“Hey, coffee’s done brewing if you all want some,” Officer Kreutzer said, poking her head through the door.  
“Fantastic!” Caroline said, standing up. “I’ll be back in a sec, Morgan.”  
“Aw, hell nah,” he laughed. “You think I’m passing up coffee? You’ve got a lot to learn, new girl.”  
“Our unit practically runs on coffee,” Reid said, following them out of the conference room. As if to demonstrate, Prentiss and Rossi came out of the room the were working in to check out the coffee.  
“Pretty sure you run on battery power, Reid,” Prentiss joked, overhearing their conversation.  
“We’re gonna drain this pot in less than a minute,” Morgan laughed.  
“Just set another one to brew when we’re done. I’ve a feeling we’re gonna be here all night,” Reid said, surveying the office. There were a number of local police officers strewn about, all looking busy and stressed out. Hotch was visible in the copy room, standing with his hands on his hips as the fax machine spit out sheet after sheet.  
“We haven’t even been here twenty minutes,” Caroline said, shaking her head.  
“Welcome to the BAU, McIntyre,” Morgan smiled, clapping her on her shoulder. “We should order dinner soon. I didn’t eat before we left.”  
“I don’t think anyone did,” Reid pointed out.  
"Let’s all take a break at 8,” Prentiss said. “We should try to get our feet under us first.”  
The agents dispersed, coffee in hand, and continued laying the groundwork for the case. Derek and Caroline returned to the conference room they were working in, followed by Hotch.  
“I have the documents from Garcia,” he said, setting down a thick stack of papers on the table. “Reid, get started putting these on the other board.” Reid nodded and started to sift through the papers. “How’s the profile coming?” Hotch asked, turning to Morgan and Caroline.  
“It’s going well,” Morgan replied. “We’re gonna have Garcia look into abduction sites to determine the un-sub’s comfort zone. Hopefully that gives us a little more to work with.”  
Hotch nodded, reading the notes they’d made so far. “It looks good. Keep going. I’ll check back soon—I’ve gotta go help JJ with the press.”  
“Good luck out there, Hotch,” Morgan said as the unit chief walked out of the room. “I always get the feeling he hates dealing with the press,” he told Caroline, taking his cell phone out of its holster on his belt and flipping it open. He speed dialed Garcia and put the phone on speaker. She answered on the first ring.  
“Oh thank God, I was worried you’d all forgotten about me,” she gushed before Morgan could say anything. “Tell me something, sexy,” she said.  
“You’re on speaker,” Morgan said, grinning at Caroline.  
“God, every time—”  
“Relax, baby girl. It’s just me, McIntyre, and Reid.”  
Garcia sighed, sounding relieved. “What work do you have for me?”  
“I need you to look into the locations where the victims were last seen,” Morgan said. “We’ve gotta figure out what zone this un-sub is operating in.”  
“I will take a look,” Garcia said. “Also, let Hotch know that I checked the nationwide stats for death from mercury poisoning. The numbers were higher than I would’ve guessed, but the majority of the deceased were just men doing industrial jobs where there were unsafe levels of mercury present.”  
“There wasn’t a single woman who matched the un-sub’s type?” Morgan asked, his brows furrowing.  
“I’m sorry, my love, but the national databases don’t lie,” Garcia said. She was quiet for a minute. “Okay, I’ve got the locations where victims one through six were last seen. Sending you the addresses now. I’ll let you know once I have anything on the two most recent.”  
“You’re the best, Penelope,” Morgan said into the phone. “Thank you.”  
“You are most welcome, handsome. Talk to you later,” she said before hanging up. Caroline sat in confusion for a moment, until Morgan saw the look on her face. He nearly burst out laughing.  
“Nobody’s explained Garcia and I to you yet, have they?”  
“Nope,” she replied. “Are you two, like, together? Is that even allowed?”  
“It’s not allowed, strictly speaking, but we’re not a thing. Garcia and I just mess with each other like that,” Morgan said. “Gets awkward sometimes when she’s on speaker and Hotch or another higher-up hears it, but it keeps the day interesting.”  
“Huh. Okay,” Caroline said, shrugging it off. “Let’s get those addresses on the map.”  
“We’re gonna take over this board, Reid,” Morgan said. Reid waved his hand in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes from the other evidence board. Morgan wheeled the map closer to where he and Caroline were sitting and grabbed a marker. “Alright, what’s the first address?” he asked.  
“3214 Coneflower Court,” Caroline said. Morgan took a minute to locate the address on the map, then circled it.  
“Next?”  
The two circled every address Garcia gave them, then sat back and looked at the map.  
“Reid, wanna come help with the geographic profile?” Morgan asked. “The abduction sites are concentrated in the northeast part of Fort Collins, which is conveniently close to the dump site,” he said, pointing to Lory State Park on the map. Reid came over, grabbing a marker from the table, and examined the newly circled locations. He started making marks and drawing lines between them, then stepped back to look at the map.  
“Has Garcia given us the abduction locations of the two most recent victims?” he asked.  
“Nope, but I can call her again, see if she has anything to help narrow down the un-sub’s hunting ground.” Caroline winced at the term ‘hunting ground’—an expression that didn’t go unnoticed.  
“You good, McIntyre?” Morgan quirked his eyebrow at her as he pulled out his phone.  
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “Just not used to all of the…terminology yet.” Morgan nodded while he waited for Garcia to pick up.  
“Wow, someone must be feeling needy,” Garcia said.  
“Do you have the abduction sites for the seventh and eighth victims yet?” Morgan asked her.  
“Check your inbox, dear,” she said. “I sent the addresses to you seconds ago.”  
“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan said.  
“I also have more exciting news for you,” she continued. “I did some digging on the victims, and found out that five of them were students at Colorado State, and of those five, four were majoring in biochemistry on a pre-med track.”  
“Which four?” Reid asked, hurrying to the other board where he had posted information on the victims.  
“Alexandra Hansom, Evelyn Waters, Leah Connor, and Ashton Crawford,” Garcia said. Reid scribbled the information on a piece of paper and pinned it to the board in the middle of the victims’ headshots.  
“Can you see if they had any classes together?” Caroline asked, moving to stand next to Reid at the board with the victims’ information.  
“I’m one step ahead of you,” Garcia said. “Alexandra and Ashton were in the same year, and they took an introductory biology course together two years ago. I, of course, did some digging on the professor and teaching assistants for the course, but every name I found came up squeaky clean—nobody ever worked in healthcare, nobody had any prior offenses, or any connection to the victims. Plus, so far as I can tell, apart from Alexandra and Ashton, theres no connection between any of the other victims. It doesn’t look like Evelyn and Leah ever crossed paths at CSU, or that they crossed paths with the others.  
“I still don’t think we should rule out the un-sub being affiliated with Colorado State,” Morgan said. “Can you look for any faculty in the biochem program who have backgrounds in medicine?”  
“Anything for you,” Garcia said as she started to type. “There are three professors who used to work in health care, but only two of them are women.”  
“What are their names?” Reid asked urgently.  
“Maria Delarosa and Patricia Smith,” Garcia answered. “Delarosa was an RN for eight years before going to get her master’s in education. Smith was an ER technician for four years before getting her master’s in biochemistry.”  
“Can you send us their addresses?” Reid asked.  
“My darling, genius boy, you don’t even have to ask,” Garcia said.  
“I think that’s all we need from you right now, Garcia,” Morgan said. “We’ll talk—“  
“Wait, wait! Before you hang up!” Garcia exclaimed. “Now that we’re done with work stuff, I need to talk to Caroline.” Morgan motioned for Caroline to say something when she looked at him with a questioning expression.  
“Um, hey, Garcia, what’s up…?”  
“Okay, so I’ve been thinking about how unfair it is that the rest of the team is getting to know you while I’ve been sitting here all alone in Quantico, and I’ve decided you, me, Emily, and JJ need to have a ladies’ wine night when you all come back.”  
“You’re really gonna organize this with me and Reid on the line and not invite us?” Morgan feigned offense. “You’re breaking my heart, Penelope.”  
“Oh, shush, you,” Garcia said. “We all know you and Reid wouldn’t have any fun at a girls night. How about it, McIntyre?”  
“Yeah, that sounds great, actually!” Caroline agreed. “Can we just not do it immediately after we get back? I’ve got a feeling we’re all gonna want a solid night’s sleep.”  
“Of course—we can talk scheduling when you finish the case. Keep working hard until then, my loves. I hope you all get some rest. Garcia out.”  
Reid, Morgan, and Caroline said their goodbyes to Garcia and started devising plans for the next day—contacting the professors, visiting the dump site, refining the profile. The three got so focused on their work that they barely noticed when Rossi poked his head through the door.  
“Guys,” he said. The three looked up quickly. “The pizza Prentiss and I ordered is here—we’ve got one that’s pepperoni and one with the works.”  
“We’ll be right out,” Reid said. They jotted down their final working ideas, then went out into the main office to have dinner.  
“I didn’t even notice it was 8 already,” Caroline admitted, picking up a paper plate and sliding a piece of pepperoni pizza onto it.  
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Morgan joked.  
“You think investigating serial murders is fun?” Prentiss jokingly gave him a hard look and he rolled his eyes.  
“How are you and Rossi doing with the information from the dump site?” he asked around a mouthful of pizza.  
“I think we’ve made just about every deduction we can about our un-sub,” Prentiss said.  
“We were extremely thorough,” Rossi agreed. “How about after dinner, we join you three to add to the profile. We’ll incorporate our inferences from the dump site, and you three can go over the photos and evidence to see if we might’ve missed anything.”  
“Sounds like a plan,” Morgan agreed.  
“Okay, let’s not talk about the case for a minute,” Prentiss said. “I just want to enjoy dinner.” A moment after she said this, Hotch and JJ came into the office.  
“How’s everything coming along?” Hotch asked as he approached the team. He stood by the pizza boxes, checking the toppings before picking up a slice with everything on it.  
“So much for my brain break,” Prentiss muttered. Reid and Caroline made eye contact and almost laughed, but Reid shook his head nearly imperceptibly—he could tell that Hotch wasn’t in a joking mood.  
“The profile is shaping up,” Morgan said. “We’re gonna join forces with Rossi and Prentiss when we finish dinner to round it out. After we visit the dump site tomorrow, we should be ready to deliver it.”  
“Good work,” Hotch said. “Prentiss, how’s the evidential examination going?”  
“I think Dave and I have analyzed and over-analyzed everything that the pictures can possibly tell us,” she said. Hotch nodded then continued eating his pizza thoughtfully. The team was quiet for a while, everyone staring at nothing in particular while chewing. Caroline could sense that people were starting to wear out—it was past 10 p.m. back in Quantico, which made it at least a 13 hour work day for everyone.  
“Longer for Hotch and I,” she thought, remembering that they’d both gotten to the office before 7 a.m. “God, I can’t wait to go to bed.”  
The rest of the team was having similar thoughts. Rossi stood and crossed the room to the table where the coffee pot was.  
“Who wants coffee?” he asked. Everyone raised their hands. “Alright. We’ll make as much as it’ll hold,” he muttered, taking the pot into the office kitchenette.  
By 8:30, the team was back at work, with everyone except Hotch and JJ in the conference room with the evidence boards. Prentiss and Rossi fleshed out the profile using the evidence from the dump site while Reid, Morgan, and Caroline took a look at the photos. By 9 o’clock, Prentiss and Rossi had shared their updates of the profile with the other three.  
“This is actually a really substantial profile for us not having visited the site or seeing the bodies yet,” Reid said when they’d finished reviewing it.  
“It’s still bugging me that there aren’t any leads on people who’ve died of mercury poisoning,” Morgan muttered, narrowing his eyes at the evidence boards. “I mean, it’s such a specific M.O.—why would she use mercury if not to recreate someone’s death?”  
“I don’t know,” Prentiss sighed. “We don’t have any suspects, do we?”  
“We have two professors from Colorado State who taught in the program that four victims were in, but we don’t really have probable cause to bring either of them in,” Reid said. “And Garcia said she can’t find a connection between any of the victims.”  
“There’s gotta be something we’re missing,” Rossi said, “or something we’re looking at wrong. We’re sure none of the victims shared anything?”  
“We’re sure,” Caroline said. “They had different hometowns, different social groups, three of them didn’t even go to Colorado State. I don’t think we’ve overlooked anything there.”  
“Let’s just step back for a minute,” Prentiss said. “Who didn’t go to CSU?”  
“Victims one, four, and six: Anne Thomas, Maggie Wright, and Sarah Barnes,” Reid answered automatically.  
“Huh.” Prentiss stared at the wall for a moment, contemplating. “Where were the Colorado State students abducted from?”  
“Everyone except Alexandra Hansom was taken from campus,” Caroline said, looking at the map.  
“Was she still near the campus?” Rossi asked.  
“Yes,” Reid and Caroline confirmed at the same time. Caroline signaled for Reid to continue. “She was within three miles of campus—she was last seen at her parents house in the suburbs.”  
“Do you think that means something?” Caroline asked. “That she was taken so close to campus, I mean.”  
“It has to,” Prentiss said. “I mean, think about it—the un-sub has a reason for abducting the girls on campus. There must have been something that made her change her pattern.”  
“At the same time,” Rossi countered, “Hansom was only her second victim—we can’t be entirely sure that the un-sub had a pattern at that point. She’d only abducted once so far, and that victim was also taken off campus.”  
“So then she actually changed her abduction strategy to take the girls directly from campus?” Caroline asked. “Wouldn’t that make it harder to abduct them? When I was in school, we took safety really seriously—girls had pepper spray, they’d walk home with groups, we were all on high alert.”  
“To be fair,” Morgan said, “you went to school in Chicago. These girls live in a small city in Colorado. They might not be as alert as you’d think.”  
“It would make sense to use the campus as a hunting ground,” Rossi said. “It would be easiest to find young women who fit a strict type there. They’d all be around the same age, and there’s a high population, increasing the chance of finding multiple women who look similar.”  
“Maybe she started off-campus to keep students’ guards down,” Reid speculated. “That way, if something went wrong in one of the first abductions, people on campus would be once removed from it and wouldn’t take it quite as seriously.”  
“Wait, that makes sense,” JJ agreed. “After she abducted two CSU students, she found someone in a different victim pool. Maybe people were on too high alert after three girls went missing and she wanted to make it seem less targeted.”  
“Yeah,” Caroline agreed. “Because after she took Maggie Wright from off-campus, she took another CSU student, then another non-student—“  
“But her latest two victims were both students,” Reid finished. “Which might mean she’s getting desperate and doesn’t care about rising tensions on campus.”  
“Well, that’s bad news for us,” Morgan said. “If she doesn’t care about the effects of her abductions, she probably won’t care that we’re here investigating. She won’t be phased, and we can’t count on her making a mistake.”  
The five agents settled into a tense silence, each wracking their brains for anything else useful to add to the profile. After two minutes of silence, Caroline abruptly stood up straighter, hurrying to the board where they’d posted photos of the dump site.  
“Guys, what if she’s not actually repeating someone’s mercury poisoning?” she asked, turning around to face the others. “What if it’s just a means to an end?”  
“What do you mean?” Rossi asked, his eyebrows knitting together.  
“Maybe she’s using the effects of mercury poisoning to mimic the effects of some other disease? If the un-sub really does have medical knowledge, she’d know the symptoms of mercury poisoning. Maybe she’s applying that knowledge, using it to simulate someone’s death by some other disease that inhibits the central nervous system—something neurodegenerative?”  
“Wait,” Prentiss considered Caroline’s theory. “That would make each of this victims a surrogate for the original person the un-sub lost.”  
“Which makes sense!” Rossi exclaimed. “We knew the un-sub was replacing someone—that’s why the victim type was so specific. This would mean that it’s not actually a type—it’s a signature. She’s been picking these nearly identical women, giving them IVs, disposing of them without any malnourishment or physical abuse. She’s taking care of them as if they were ill and she was their primary caregiver.”  
“It’s the only logical explanation why Garcia didn’t have any hits when she searched for people who died of mercury poisoning,” Reid agreed. While the team pieced together what else they could from this theory, Morgan speed-dialed Garcia.  
“C’mon, baby girl, pick up,” he muttered. “It’s not even midnight there, please be—”  
“Garcia, technical analyst extraordinaire at your service,” she said cheerily.  
“Baby girl, I need you to look up deaths in the Fort Collins area that were linked to a neurodegenerative disease, or other things that caused nervous system failure,” he said, urgency consuming his tone.  
“Wow, you sound stressed out,” she remarked. He heard her fingers typing rapidly in the background. “I’ll say it—it’s not very sexy.”  
He ignored her flirtatious antics—it wasn’t the time. “Garcia, this might be a breakthrough for us. Anything yet?”  
“Yeah, I can send you the records in a sec. There’s a lot of names, almost 80 in the last five years alone. How far back do you want to look?”  
“Guys,” Morgan said, getting the attention of the others. “How long ago do we think the un-sub lost whoever died?”  
“I’d say go back eleven or twelve years,” Reid said. “Given that the un-sub had time to leave their job as a health care provider, and the abductions started nearly a year ago, I think the trigger must’ve been an anniversary of someone’s death—a tenth anniversary would probably be significant enough to freak out the un-sub.”  
“Okay,” Morgan nodded. “Garcia, can you check records going back to 1996?”  
“Of course I can, but I’ve got over two hundred hits here. Any chance you wanna give me something to narrow it down?” Garcia said.  
“Only send us the names of women who died between the ages of—what ages do you guys think?” Morgan asked the team.  
“I’d say 19 to 24,” Reid said. The others agreed.  
Morgan nodded. “Between the ages of 19 and 24,” he told Garcia.  
“Gotcha, hang on.”She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Since 1996, sixteen young women in Fort Collins have died of causes related to nervous system failure and neurodegenerative diseases,” Garcia said. “I’m faxing you the list now, along with hospital records on each of the women. I can get you more specific stuff in the morning, once you narrow it down to a shorter list.”  
“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan smiled at the rest of the team. “You’re the absolute best.”  
“I know,” she replied, hanging up.  
“I’m gonna go get those records off the fax machine,” Rossi said, walking towards the door. “If I see Hotch, I’ll tell him to come check out the profile.”


End file.
